Fauxhasset Paroder, 60th Edition: 8 Lame Jane’s Condos Out of the Frying Pan

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Tragedy struck Fauxhasset village this week when, despite the rainy weather, the entire development at 8 Lame Jane’s suddenly and inexplicably burst into flames. Thankfully, no one was harmed, as no one had yet moved in to the ultra-luxury condo units.

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Is this…. not how fire normally looks? Photo credit

In fact, due to bureaucratic delays last winter and the Thousand-Inch Snow last spring, the development had only just been completed. The last construction vehicle had barely rolled off the property before the whole endeavor went up like a Roman candle in a 19th-century office full of newspapers. (And we should know. On a side note, back issues of the Paroder are now available only in digital form – we regret apologize for the inconvenience.)

On the scene nearly as fast as the firefighters was Father Mumblehill of the Flaxen-Mary Abbey and five young protégés from his fall “Egyptology 101” class, the whole lot of them bearing crucifixes and urging onlookers to repent.

“Ishtar has opened the gates to the realm of the dead,” one student explained as he wept and repeatedly mashed handfuls of white marble stone dust from the driveway into his hair. “The zombies are coming now. Repent, and maybe binge watch The Walking Dead while you still can.”

Neighbors are panicking, with several packing up their things and heading to the Mad Elephant Hotel on the harbor, where the generous owner Ord Girdlehyde is always happy to provide rooms free of charge for residents displaced by acts of gods, demons, aliens, ghosts, and other supernatural forces.

Officials are doing their best to settle everyone down.

“There are no zombies!” roared Fire Chief Harlan Dowser. “No demons, no gods – just regular old arsons, that’s all we’ve got here. Go on home and let us clean up.”

Gradually, people did go home, but judging by the lack of available bandwidth around here tonight, I’d say most of them were listening to the stone dust kid and not the Fire Chief.

With so much rain in recent days, Dowser said it was unlikely that the buildings had caught fire from something as innocent as an electrical spark or a carelessly-tossed cigarette butt. Even if such an incident had started the fire, he said, it would not have affected all four buildings (12 units total), and they would not have gone up as quickly as they did, nor burned so thoroughly.

Yet that is exactly why Mumblehill and his minions suspect a supernatural element. “Wouldn’t you say the buildings went up… unnaturally fast?” Mumblehill challenged the Fire Chief.

Police removed him and his students from the scene and returned them to the abbey and the Fenclave, respectively. No charges were pressed. Developer J.J. Henry could not be found for comment, but contractors leaving the scene assured us he was not on the property at the time of the incident.

Look for more on this issue in an upcoming edition of the Paroder.

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Fauxhasset Paroder, 52nd Edition: Everything is Connected

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

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Come on, Buster; what kind of map is this? All the street names are spelled wrong. “Jerusalem Road?” “Atlantic Ave?” Everyone knows its “Mecca Mile” and “Atlantis Boulevard.”

This was going to be a good news story, Fauxhasset. Achey Cedars Way was finally going to be paved this week, after three decades of potholes and patchwork.

Instead, when contractors went to pulverize the existing roadway, they found something disturbing underneath: more strange symbols, painted in a familiar gleaming red that experts still have failed to confirm is not blood.

Like the symbols found at the 8 Lame Jane’s condos and on Fame Island, these depicted an eight-pointed compass rose and an astrological diagram, joined by an acute angle. But they also indicated something far more sinister than either of the previous two findings: not only is there some sort of weird occult conspiracy going on in Fauxhasset, but there has been for more than 30 years.

Neighbors panicked. Three families up and left without even packing their belongings. Others once again booked an extended stay at the Mad Elephant Hotel. And owner Ord Girdlehyde, philanthropist that he is, once again took them in free of charge.

Town Manager Mown Tanager did his best to calm everybody.

“In a way, it’s kind of comforting,” said Tanager. “This has been here for thirty years, maybe even longer, and nobody even knew about it. Same with the one at Lame Jane’s. I won’t deny they look bad, but if they were going to summon demons or something, don’t you think they would’ve done it by now?”

“IT SWALLOWED MY BROTHER,” bellowed Dooey Lembas, a student at Princess Elsa’s School for Turning Superheroes into Snowflakes, whose younger brother Shorty fell into a pothole while playing in the street last December and never came out.

Tanager looked conflicted, but Dooey’s parents pulled her into the Escalade with her seven remaining brothers and drove off before the Town Manager could respond.

The Paroder reached out to paranormal consultant Buster DeGost, who has followed some of the strange goings-on in Fauxhasset since Shorty disappeared last winter.

“You said this angle points west?” DeGost said. Frantic scribbling could be heard on the other end of the line. “It’s a triangle. Achey Cedars, 8 Lame Jane, and Fame Island – they’re all exactly a mile apart. They form a perfect triangle. And all the other paranormal activity is happening inside it.”

It’s true: the black hole in the harbor, the Hallowed Burrow that coughed up Fauxsutawney Fil instead of our beloved groundhog this Feb. 2, the space-time rift that has been muddling the duration of public meetings at the Temple (and briefly unleashed a time-raptor at the Semiannual Spring Séance) – all of these events were clustered neatly within the triangular framework DeGost supplied by email.

What does it all mean?

“Hell if I know,” said DeGost, “but I’ll look into it.”

Fauxhasset Paroder, 44th Edition: Sticky symbolism

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Paranormal consultant Buster DeGost has made another troubling discovery, this time at Fame Island. The former ghostbuster climbed to the Space Mountain tunnel where Punxsutawney Phil was found trapped last week and discovered more strange symbols painted on the floor of the cave.

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Nothing bad could possibly come of this, right? …..right? Photo credit

The complex diagram is painted in gleaming red, which looks fresh yet is dry to the touch. It depicts an eight-pointed star intersecting some sort of astrological calendar. Both are bisected by straight lines, which come together to form an acute angle pointing north-northeast.

“It’s the same diagram we found at 8 Lame Jane’s,” said DeGost. “And the same damn red paint – or blood, still don’t know which – but either way, it doesn’t respond to turpentine or any other paint removal agent on the market. And chipping away the actual stone doesn’t do anything either.”

To prove it, DeGost chiseled out a bit of the painted stone and held it up to the light. The stone now appeared gray, like the walls of the cave. The red marks remained unblemished on the floor.

“I’m still not convinced these markings have a demonic origin,” said DeGost, “but there’s definitely something otherworldly behind them. I would advise the public to leave investigations to the professionals. Ah… professional, that is. Guess it’s just me now, isn’t it?”

DeGost was originally retained by the Town to study the impossible dimensions of the Lame Jane townhomes after officials discovered the units were larger inside than out. After being fired by his firm for “wild speculations” (and dissing the company Christmas party), DeGost stayed on to conduct his own private investigation.

The Paroder caught up with JJ Henry, 8 Lame Jane developer, and Ord Girdlehyde, owner of Pacifica, Ye Olde Pepper Mill, the Mad Elephant Hotel, and basically the entire harbor (he’s kind of a big deal) to see if they’d noticed anything when they discovered Phil in the cave on Easter morning.

“It was too bright,” Henry recalled. “Phil was glowing – we were a bit blinded. And, frankly, we were just happy that winter would finally be ending now that we’d found him. It was really bad for Ord’s business, and we couldn’t make any headway with construction under all those thousands of inches of snow.”

“Perhaps you should ask Phil,” suggested Girdlehyde. “He was in there for a long time. Perhaps he made the markings, or knows where they came from. He is, after all, a god.”